A/N: The idea came spontaneously to me. I discarded it at first, then reread it, and finally decided to post it. This is a follow-up to "Night walker" and includes ringshipping, slight shonen ai, fluff and angst.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately I do not own Yu Gi Oh. The lyrics are from Skillet "Whispers in the dark", which I don't own either.
Shadow Walker
Despite the lies that you're making
Your love is mine for the taking
My love is just waiting
To turn your tears to roses
Where did it start? Neither knew. It was not important. What mattered was that morning was still far away, and silver-blue eyes were free to gaze into lavender orbs filled with emotions the thief never though he'd receive again. Tanned fingers, calloused from hard work, twirled strains of violet hair between them, and warm lips, dry from the sun and wind and sand, closed upon softer, delicately carved ones that whispered of devotion and love and sweet, sweet promises once released. A king of thieves he was, for who else had ever managed to steal such a valuable treasure as a high priest's heart?
Despite the lies that you're making
Your love is mine for the taking
My love is just waiting
To turn your tears to roses
Awe, fear, anger, disappointment; all these emotions lay mixed with each other in Yami no Bakura's eyes as Magician of Black Chaos was summoned. He was defeated, and the spirit of the ring knew it. Still he would not go down without a fight. Bakura placed all his will into the very last cards he played, just so he could irritate the pharaoh.
"Go, Magician of Black Chaos!" The voice of Yami no Yugi overpowered the cheering from his fan club. In some lame attempt to protect himself Bakura raised his arm in front of his face. The shadow realm swept over him, guided by the duel monster's attack, and dragged him with it away from life. It angered the spirit, of course; yet it was no big deal. He had escaped the shadow realm a hundred times before. What difference would one more do?
But for now, he needed to wait and gather his strength. And… gather himself. That face. So similar, yet so different. The Magician of Black Chaos was a copy of the Dark Magician, save for skin colour and clothes. It was a copy of… of Mahaado.
I'll be the one that's gonna hold you
I'll be the one that you run to
My love is a burning, consuming fire
"You hold my heart."
The statement did not hold the emotion it could have, and its suddenness startled Mahaado. Bakhura did not repeat himself. It was hard enough to admit it in the first place. In stead he said: "I'm only a peasant and a common thief, yet I wish you were not to throw it away." Mahaado placed his arms around Bakhura's waist and pressed himself to the thief's chest.
"You are all but common, my love," he whispered. "I'd rather give up my position than throw you away." Strong arms encircled the lavender haired man and a roughed up face pressed into soft hair. For some reason unknown to the priest, he smiled as he heard a voice whisper: "Good. For I'd rather kill you than give you up."
No, you'll never be alone
When darkness comes I'll light the night with stars
Hear my whispers in the dark
No, you'll never be alone
When darkness comes you know I'm never far
Hear the whispers in the dark
Whispers in the dark
"Lost in dreams, partner?" A voice echoed through nothingness, startling the purple haired monster from his thoughts. The Dark Magician turned his head. The gleam in the other monster's red eyes told him everything and some more.
"Magician of Black Chaos, you've won the game in the name of our master, now leave the poor soul alone" he warned. The Magician of black chaos smiled, tilting his head back slightly.
"Oh..?" One word, and nothing more. Dark Magician narrowed his eyes, knowing that the other was toying with him.
"We are not to interfere with the living outside of duels," the Dark… no, Mahaado reminded the other. Out on the field he may have been the Dark Magician, but here in the nothingness, he was still Mahaado, the former high priest of the pharaoh. Magician of Black Chaos smiled wider.
"The tomb robber is not really living, hm?" the monster stated. Then he leaned closer, smile disappearing. "Mahaado, I am a copy of you. A far more powerful and improved clone. I hold your memories from the nights in the past." Mahaado shivered. The use of his long lost name and the knowledge of him shearing such private memories with anyone made him cringe. "Deny it as you try, you desire him still, partner." Had it been any other Mahaado would have argued. But this creature summoned from his own flesh… With this thing it would be impossible.
"Stop toying with me. What is it that you want?" Dreading the answer, the purple haired monster had to ask. Magician of Black Chaos threw his hair over his shoulder in an air of amusement. The smirk was back on his lips and his eyes twinkled.
"The very same thing you want," the monster laughed. "Difference being, I do not fear getting it." The leather clad sorcerer was gone, leaving Mahaado feeling cold to the very core. 'It does not matter,' he told himself. 'Bakhura betrayed me. I care not what happens to him.' Yet he knew better.
You feel so lonely and ragged
You lay there broken and naked
My love is just waiting
To clothe you in crimson roses
The cold blade cut trough flesh. Blood pooled down on white robes, dying them with colours of passion. How it happened, neither knew. Tears escaped purple eyes, rapidly glazing over in death. What foolish impulse had caused this? The white-handled knife clattered against the floor. One's breath had been stolen, but the other breathed rapidly enough for the both of them. Tresses of silver were soiled in red and quiet sobs filled the room.
"What have I done?"
"What have I done?"
What have I done..?
I'll be the one that's gonna find you
I'll be the one that's gonna guide you
My love is a burning, consuming fire
There was no sound in the shadow realm. One could only feel. And see. Bakura felt the powerful presence nearing, and soon he saw the tall duel monster walking towards him, long hair moving in a nonexistent wind. The Magician of Black Chaos strode purposely and self-confident towards the cursed tomb robber. Bakura saw the thin lips smiling and the red eyes flash with some unnamed emotion.
"What do you want?" Bakura shouted to it, his voice nothing but a vibration, forming words in the empty shadows wherever it touched, echoing in their heads rather than their ears. It came as no surprise that the duel monster did not answer. Never did they talk to the humans, even if some could sense what they wished to say. When it came to the Magician of Black Chaos, Bakura was helplessly lost. The humanoid could not be read unless it itself allowed such. Closer it came, that unsettling smile on a familiar face.
"Go away," Bakura hissed. "I've got no business with you." His voiceless words sounded uncertain even to him. The monster tilted its head but still kept walking. Only when the spirit's millennium item flashed in warning did the creature stop.
Magician of Black Chaos crossed his arms in annoyance. How could he calm the spirit when dimensional laws forbid him from speaking to the man? The tomb robber's fear was understandable, but aggravating nonetheless. Luckily this immortal human was smarter than the norm. The Magician of Black Chaos shook his head no at the question whether he was sent by the pharaoh. Then why was he there? The Magician's smile returned and he moved forward. Fast enough to startle the spirit, precise enough to get to the position he wanted, and smart enough to keep a grip on the slender body so the other wouldn't instinctually back away.
The duel monsters body tingled. This was what he wanted. Magician of Black Chaos remembered, or rather knew, the kisses shared by Mahaado and Bakhura in Egypt, and he copied the movements like the improved clone that he was. Bakura's body, rigid from shock, slowly softened and the tomb robber kissed back. Granted, this humanoid was larger than he was, but the touch was familiar, and it brought back the past so many centuries ago.
Fingers twining in hair, bodies desperate for touch… Bakura broke away from the captivating contact and backed out of the magician's reach. The spirit was strong enough to return to the living now. But before he could, he shook his head.
"You're not him," the thief said, perhaps to himself, perhaps as an explanation for the Magician of Black Chaos.
No, you'll never be alone
When darkness comes I'll light the night with stars
Hear my whispers in the dark
No, you'll never be alone
When darkness comes you know I'm never far
Hear the whispers in the dark
The early rays of the sun lit the eastern horizon far beyond the cold dunes of the desert. A purple-haired high priest sat on expensive quilts and blankets spread on the floor. One royal blue sheet pooled in his lap, offering what little cover it could as the priest's eyes fallowed his lover. Bakhura dressed quickly and silently. Then he kneeled in front of Mahaado and kissed the priest hungrily, yet softly.
"Only you," the thief whispered. Mahaado knew what the words meant and repeated them in a soft whisper. Moments before Bakhura slinked out through the window, the silver-haired man added: "Er Gereh, hem-netjer-tepey." Mahaado smiled.
"Netjer em Sa. Senebti, merwet-I."
No, you'll never be alone
When darkness comes I'll light the night with stars
Hear the whispers in the dark
No, you'll never be alone
When darkness comes you know I'm never far
Hear the whispers in the dark
Whispers in the dark
Whispers in the dark
Whispers in the dark
Owari